


Don't Forget - You're Here Forever

by Lazygrin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU fluff UST etc, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazygrin/pseuds/Lazygrin
Summary: Belle French really didn't realise what she was signing up for when she agreed to take over the management and restoration of the estate. Leaking pipes are the least of her problems when there are difficult staff, mayoral red tape and a seemingly very rude owner.





	1. Intruder

_This is below my pay grade_. Belle huffed internally as she dragged the dusty, rolled up rug from one room to the next in a seemingly endless circle. She eventually stumbled upon what must be the music room, before dropping it instantaneously and clapping her hands to release the dust.

 _Good grief_ , she thought as she looked around the tall ceilinged room. Had anyone every actually looked at the place? Clocks were out of sync, furniture beginning to mould, and the paintings – _don’t even get me started on the paintings_. She was irritated by the lack of care taken of the place. It wasn’t acceptable in her eyes to own such a beautiful house filled with beautiful things and let it go to waste. _Well, it would be beautiful. Eventually_. After some serious work.

She turned to leave the room to find the next piece that needed moving, after the help had failed to turn up again, and almost crashed headfirst into a slight boy, dressed in a checked shirt and sneakers.

‘Hey, Ms French’ He grinned at her, waving his books at her. ‘Hey Henry, and I've told you before. It's Belle' she smiled back. ‘Are you on your way home?’

‘Yup’ he nodded ‘just checking in on my favourite haunted mansion.’ Belle tutted and rolled her eyes at him. ‘It’s definitely not haunted, Henry. I would know, I’ve spent enough time here in the past few months. Only thing that will bother you here is the rats.’

It was true, she had undertaken the restoration and management of the estate after a relatively cryptic ad placed in the local paper was followed up by a very normal interview. It had read:

_Wanted: live-in estate manager to work on restoration of fine antiques and day to day management of Georgian country estate. Small staff supplied. Compensation competitive._

And that had been it. Despite the promise of managing an entire Georgian mansion and the added restoration work, the main attraction for Belle had been the live-in option. She had recently found her ex-fiancé with another woman, which while it hadn’t bothered her as much as she thought it should, had meant a swift exit to avoid the please and bargains of Greg was most attractive. And plus, who didn’t like an enigmatic position in a new and exciting place? It had reminded her of her old mystery books, and it had been time. Really. She had had enough of the provincial life.

Henry was the mayors’ son, and had been visiting the mansion after school where he would read and write as much as he could. Belle had found him behind a curtain and had shrieked and accidentally pulled it down in terror before he could explain himself. Of course after that, they had become friends, as Belle had a fondness for strays and Henry was warmed by her kindness. He brought cookies and she told him stories of the house and its history, some of which she was only learning herself.

Belle tapped his elbow and shooed him out of the door. ‘It’s late, its dark and I don’t fancy having to explain to your mother why her son is coming home again covered in – what even is that, soot?’ Henry mumbled sheepishly. ’Fell in the fireplace upstairs.’ Belle brushed his shoulders and shepherded him to the door. ‘Come earlier tomorrow, I’ve found a story I think you’ll like.’ She winked at him and waved as he trotted down the path, before turning back into the house.

She lived here alone, in a small apartment style suite upstairs, which she had filled with her trinkets, books and clothes. Thankfully in the past someone had had the good idea to install some parts of the house with plumbing and electricity, so she was fine to be there, even if it did get too quiet on colder nights. The interview she had had was with Mrs Potts, a part-time housekeeper, as the owner of the estate was away, and was often away. It had gone well, she was warm and friendly, but seemed very particular on the rules of the house. No pets, no parties, no friends over without permission, no fires and so on. For someone that hadn’t been doing a very good job maintaining the house as it was, Belle thought it was a bit rich that she couldn’t set fire to the curtains if she so chose.

She decided enough was enough and sat down to plan the next day. Speak to Jefferson, the handy man, about the fences. Speak to Mary-Margaret and David about clearing out the pantries and starting again. Make sure Mrs Lucas had at least looked at the oven and if it was worth restoring. She noted them all down in a small neat hand, glad at least of some help. And it was going well. She herself was sorting out the china cabinet tomorrow. She was pretty sure some of the pieces were very valuable and probably never used. Sighing, put away her pen, and started to close up before going to her suite to take a shower. It was as the water was steaming nicely, and she was in her robe that she heard it.

The thud of the front door. The front door she had definitely, 100% locked.

Belle had never scrambled so fast to pull her jeans and shirt on as she did in that moment. A million crazy thoughts ran through her head. _Thieves? Vandals? Should she call the police? Should she get a weapon? Was she going to be fired?_ She decided to make sure it was definitely human before she acted, so she slipped on socks, hands shaking and padded downstairs to peep through the banisters. Somewhere she could see and not be seen.

What she saw was definitely a man. It was too dark to make out the exact features but he was prowling the large foyer. That made up Belles mind. She could probably take him, but why risk it? She crawled back upstairs and took out her mobile phone and called the police whispering so she couldn’t be heard by the intruder.

‘Yes. Yes. I don’t know how he got in but he is definitely down there. No. No he’s just standing in the foyer. I am the only person who should even have a key. Can someone come now?’

Her heart was pounding now, but it had gone very, very quiet downstairs. _Don’t be an idiot Belle. This is how horror films start. Don’t go down there_. Belle listened to herself, staying balled up in the upstairs tea-room, before eventually seeing the flashes of blue and red lights outside. At this she did tread downstairs carefully scanning the now empty foyer to meet the officer at the door.

‘Ms French, I’m Officer Swan, can you show me where the intruder is?’ The blonde officer looked serious and was scanning the property. ‘Shall we put the lights on?’

Belle nervously ran her hand through her auburn hair, ‘yes of course, I don’t know where he is, he vanished, but I’m sure he is still here. I didn’t hear the door go again. And like I said, since I moved in, only I have a key.’ She was smoothing down her mis-buttoned shirt, realising she must seem a little manic, but surely the occasion called for it.

Officer Swan nodded, pushed Belle behind her and moved slowly into the house, calling out. ‘POLICE. SHOW YOURSELF’ when a door to their right, that led to the library creaked open.

The man limped through. In the light, Belle could make out that he was dressed in a three piece suit, covered by an overcoat that was creased as if he had been sitting for a long amount of time. She could see that he had shoulder length hair, brown eyes and a lined face, and a very confused and irritated expression. ‘STOP’ shouted Officer Swan holding up her hands to him.

‘Excuse me.’ He said in a clipped scotch accent. ‘I didn’t think it was a crime to enter my own home.’


	2. Owner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rude first impression and an unexpected request.

When Belle eventually spoke, after a moments stunned silence from all sides, she spoke slowly.

 

‘Your. House.’ She mulled the words over in her mouth as Officer Swan put her hands down and took a step towards the intruder. ‘His house.’ She said to herself, still staring at the man, taking in all she could about him. Dark eyes, defined cheeks and nose, a little frayed about the edges from his obvious journey, his limp causing his shoulders to slope slightly and hold himself a little stiffly. He was dressed sharply, but the expensive suit was covered in the creased overcoat. He had looked a lot more menacing in the dark. Right now he looked tired more than anything else, but his annoyance at this interruption was clear.

 

‘Yes,’ he repeated in that same, clipped tone. ‘My house. I am the owner, and I’m assuming that you are the estate manager. Ms French.’ He looked towards the Police Officer who had a small smirk on her face. ‘And you must be her security force.’

 

The blonde rolled her eyes. ‘For security’s sake, I’d like to see some ID. So I can run some checks.’

 

The man, reached in his pocket and pulled out a wallet, flashing the card inside to the officer, who got out a cellphone and turned her back to the pair and began calling in to the station. Belle realised that if he was the owner, he was also her employer. And to her employer, she was looking dishevelled and much, much less than professional, with her misbuttoned shirt and socks in the foyer of a very grand home.

 

The man turned his attention now to Belle. He cast an appraising eye over her, taking in her tousled auburn hair, smooth pale skin and innocent and bewildered expression, that in his state was a little infuriating, before clasping his hands in front of him and addressing her.

 

‘I suppose I should commend you for calling the police at all. I wouldn’t want an estate manager who was reckless with the security of my home.’ He was speaking to her with an almost dismissive air, establishing that she should be afraid of him.

 

‘You… you scared me.’ She stutter-started. ‘The lights were off and I am usually here alone.’ Belle felt a little annoyed at his tone. She was, after all, being responsible. Did he want his house to be over-run with any old person that wanted to wander in?

 

Emma turned back to them and shut her phone.

 

‘It would appear you are the owner. Mazel tov.’ She said, dryly. ‘Ms French, do you need taking somewhere?’

 

Belle shook her head, ‘no, no, not at all. I live in one of the apartments upstairs, and I’m sure me and…?’ Belle stopped and was suddenly mortified. What was his name? She knew his name. She had read it a thousand times in the documents and history of the place the man in front of her had inherited. _Oh god. What was his name?_

 

‘…Mr Gold…’ he finished for her with an impassive look on his face. She had paused too long and now he knew she had forgotten his name. Belle was mortified but picked herself up as only someone who has hit rock-bottom can.

 

‘…will get along swimmingly. We have a few things to catch up on. Thank you, Officer.’ She smiled at her and escorted her to the door, before closing it and turning back to face the Intruder. Or Mr Gold, as she should probably begin calling him. In her head she cursed herself for being so easily spooked and flustered. _Well,_ she thought, _bravery begins now_.

 

‘Mr Gold, I can only apologise. If I had known you were coming I, of course, would not have called the police.’ She smiled as she spoke, trying to win him over.

 

‘I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to return to my own home, Ms French.’ Mr Golds stare was direct and it was clear that he was not amused.

 

Slightly taken aback, Belle began again. ‘I didn’t mean to say you needed my permission, I only meant -‘

 

Mr Gold cut her off abruptly. ‘Ms French, it’s almost midnight. I have been travelling for some time. You quite clearly aren’t in a fit state to have anything to say of any sense, so I am suggesting I go to my rooms and get some sleep. Unless you would like to perhaps have me cuffed for attempting to climb the stairs, dangerous criminal that I am.’

 

Belles mouth dropped open. She was flabbergasted. He was so unbelievably _rude_. Why was nothing coming out of her mouth to say back to him?

 

Gold smirked and moved towards the stairs. ‘I see you have no articulated objections. Good evening, Ms French.’ He held his hands out to gesture to her to go upstairs first. After a short second, Belle swept by regally, as much as she could in her jeans and shirt, and head held high, climbed the stairs to her apartment.

 

____________

 

Belle did not sleep. She spent most of the night lying, staring up at the ceiling, a grimace on her face, arms crossed and trying to think of snappy retorts to Mr Golds snide remarks. She was sadly coming up empty. Nothing.

 

What an infuriating man. What an abominable attitude! How dare he judge her for naturally calling the police when she could have been being attacked? He had some gall. And to turn up unannounced? When he had never so much as even spoken to her before? Did the man not have a phone? He knew she was living here. He was her employer for goodness sakes!

 

Round and round the thoughts ran, until she eventually fell into a dreamless and unsatisfying nights sleep.

 

In the morning she dressed in a smart cream blouse, black skirt and tights and flat pumps, hair up in a smooth bun and a jacket over the top to add a level of what she hoped was authority. She had been up early, despite the very little sleep and was determined to make the day go her way. She was in charge of her own fate. She smoothed down the jacket one final time and stepped downstairs, to start the day.

 

___

 

The rest of the staff were all jumpy that day. Mrs Potts had come in, only to busy herself in the kitchen claiming that there was urgent business there. The Nolans had excused themselves almost as soon as they arrived and Jefferson had clearly been spooked and mumbled something about trying on a suit of armour, just for kicks. The man himself had not yet been seen, and it was apparently unlikely he would descend today, according to Mrs Potts. He often holed himself away up in the west wing, seeing no-one for days when he did return.

 

Belle had been on her game despite the little setbacks, as she had planned. Last night behind her, she had already organised the repair of one of the more delicate clocks, emptied and organised documents found in an old chest and had begun work on the china cabinet as she had planned yesterday. She had just pulled out a tea-set to be polished when she heard a noise behind her. 3.15, he was definitely early today, as requested.

 

Without looking up, she began to examine the cup she had pulled out and spoke. ‘Henry, you know you shouldn’t creep up on me like that. After the night I had last night, you’d think twice about it.’

 

‘Well, I think I can corroborate that, Ms French.’ That scotch accent again. Definitely not Henry. Belle straightened, pivoted on her heels and placed the cup on the dark-wooded table beside her for safekeeping. He looked better today, less tired, more put together. He was wearing a dark blue suit and darker blue shirt, and today was supported by a cane with a smooth wooden handle. That would make sense, given the limp she had seen last night.

 

She cuts in first before he can say anything else.

 

‘Mr Gold, I’d just like to say that I am sorry about last night, however I don’t think I did anything inappropriate -'

 

‘I-‘ He didn’t even get his second word out before she spoke over him, causing his eyebrows to raise.

 

‘I acted in the interests of my own security and I hope you understand that. I was also hoping to speak to you today, as I think we should sit down and discuss what I have been doing with the estate in your absence. I have several new initiatives I think you should review and updates on all the work being done –'

 

‘Ms Fren-‘

 

‘Its been a very exciting time for me and I hope that I can continue here.’ She stopped to take a breath and realised she had run out of things to say. She paused, and waited for him to respond.

 

‘Oh, you are done then.’ He dryly replied. Belle swore in her head at him. _Bloody moron._ ‘Ms French, you have the same thoughts as me. Let’s sit down and discuss the rather large estate. I look forward to the new initiatives. I’m rather busy today, but I’m assuming tomorrow morning would suit?’

 

‘Perfectly’ she replied in a polite and polished tone.

 

‘Excellent. I would also like to request that you join me for dinner. This evening, if that would be convenient.’

 

‘I’m sorry Mr Gold, dinner?’ she tilted her head to the side, quizzical and curious.

 

‘Yes, dinner. We live in the same house Ms French, and despite me being the Lord and Master here, I think it might be a step in the right direction to share a meal in the evenings. Unless you have other plans?’

 

She got the feeling he was joking. She decided to test the water a little and shook her head slowly. ‘No, no plans. But are you sure you want as Lord and Master to eat with the help? Or that the help wants to eat with you?’

 

‘Well,’ Gold shrugged ‘perhaps you should remember that as Lord and Master, if you don’t eat with me you don’t eat at all.’ He kept his countenance for a second, before the tiniest smirk appeared on the corner of his mouth. A wave of relief swept over Belle. A joke, kind of. Dry, but a joke. _Dinner it is._

 

‘I’ll be down at seven.’

 

‘Excellent’ said Gold before limping away towards the kitchens, where Belle was sure Mrs Potts was in for a fright.


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner and conversation.

 

Tapping her fingers on her dresser, Belle changed her mind again. Not the red A-line dress then, too dressy. Perhaps she should keep the outfit she had on? No, it was dusty from the day and she needed to look at the very least clean. Her eyes roved over her limited wardrobe. In her haste to get out of her ex-fiances apartment, she had grabbed a capsule wardrobe, with every intention of collecting the rest from her various friends’ houses where she had stored them. They had all thought she was crazy moving into the house, and a few had even suggested she forgive Gas and move back home, but the thought was repellent. She reached forward, took a deep blue tea-dress with mid-length sleeves off a rail. It was the best she could do. And no doubt Mr Gold wouldn’t care either way. She wore her hair about her shoulders, waving loosely about her, straightened herself out and looked at the clock. Showtime.

After what she considered to be two disastrous meetings, Belle was ready to show that she was competent. Capable. Cool and collected. _Too much alliteration_ she thought as she made her way down the stairs and ended up standing in the foyer, surrounded by grand artefacts, eyeing them up. Scuff marks on that table. Wear on the seta of that chair. Her eye roved around mentally collecting the work for the future. It calmed her and she paused briefly. Should she go into the dining room? She knew where it was, would that be rude?

She didn’t have to make the decision however as the door to the right, coming from the library again opened and through stepped the host.

He had changed too, but he still had his cane with him, now he was wearing black, all over. Suit, shirt, waistcoat, only marked as different by subtle textures and shades. His hair was mostly light brown with some streaks of grey and as the other times his dark and deep eyes were fixed on her.

‘Good evening, Mr Gold’ Belle smiled and nodded. She resisted the urge to curtsey as a joke, as the formality of the situation seemed ridiculous.

‘Good evening, Ms French’ he coolly replied, before gesturing towards the dining room. ‘Perhaps we should begin? I’m sure you have had an _exhausting_ day, fiddling with trinkets.’

‘No more so than you,’ Belle responded as she stepped towards the dining room with him following behind. ‘I imagine spending the day startling all your staff into nervous wrecks must have taken a serious amount of energy.’ She glanced behind to check his response, and although she thought she saw a ghost of a smile, she couldn’t be sure and continued.

The table was already laid, and Belle hesitated again. Was she expected to serve the food? Where was it? Who had cooked it? No sooner had these thoughts gone through her head, when Mrs Lucas, the occasional cook appeared, laden with dishes, putting them on the table, and turning to the owner.

‘That will be all Mrs Lucas.’ She nodded, turned to go, and they heard the front doors swing closed. He was quiet and gestured to Belle to sit at the head of the table, while he took the side to her right. As the table seated 18 it seemed reasonable, as having him at the opposite end would only cause them both to lose their voices.

‘What are we eating?’ Belle asked, looking to fill the silence. Mr Gold only removed the covers of two of the dishes, revealing a carbonara and a side salad.

‘Nothing too grand, I’m afraid. I realise the help might not be used to my usually refined palette.’

Belle rolled her eyes but reached forward and served herself and waited for him to begin before tucking in. She was starving. There was that silence again, and she felt like she was being tested, but she didn’t know what the answers were. She slowed down and began winding the pasta around her fork when she spoke again.

‘Why is only half the house hooked up to the modern world?’ she asked, ready to talk about something that she knew.

‘Excuse me?’ he slowed too, looking back at her, taking her in again. Like the night before, her wide-eyed gaze and impossibly blue eyes almost infuriated him.

‘Only half the house has electricity, water, heating. The west wing, the central block, the kitchens all are liveable, but a larger part of the attics, eastern wing, outhouses, are all still in the dark ages. Why haven’t they been updated at the same time?’

Gold finished his mouthful, and Belle in a flash became very aware of the way his mouth moved, which startled her slightly. He tapped his napkin on his mouth before he continued.

‘The house has been handed down to a long line of men from my family. Not all of them – responsible. We still have the house but money has come and gone, improvements made where they can, but mostly achieved through some back room deals. The electricity itself came from a sum of money obtained by essentially selling my great aunt.’ He paused here and gauged her for a reaction.

Belle was perfectly composed and twirled her fork again. ‘You mean the marriage of Ava Westfield to the Duke of Reston?’

‘I do indeed. But clearly we didn’t sell her for enough. I’d have like to at least provided light in the eastern drawing room. I fear it’s going to waste’ Gold smiled wolfishly at this point.

‘Which is why I’m here?’ Belle questioned but she knew the answer.

‘Yes. My fortunes are faring considerably better than y predecessors and its time to restore the ancestral home. Mrs Potts has done a terrible job, but now equipped with staff and resources I hoped an estate manager might begin to help.’ He began to eat again, rationale for hiring her clearly over.

‘You don’t spend much time here.’ Belle observed, but received no response from him. ‘Do you not like it here?’

‘It’s my home. But, no I don’t spend much time here. I have other things to be doing. The question is Ms French, why are you here?

‘You advertised’ Belle responded.

‘Not the question.’ He shot back, their conversation becoming snappy. ‘You are qualified, but you are surprisingly young and from what I hear you had a life. Why shut yourself away in a remote estate that requires so much of your time? Surely something more sedate like a library would be to your tastes? Something that allows you more freedom?’

Belle laid down her fork completely now and rested her hands on the table, tossing her head to push some hairs back from her face.

‘I am here because I am capable. I like a challenge. This house certainly provides that, you say Mrs Potts has done a mediocre job and to be honest, I’d agree. I am here because being in a reading about stories is all very well, but you need to actually do something about them to make them a reality. I am working hard on this house because I can see its value.’

‘You see its value do you? Lots of the things are beyond repair.’

‘I maintain, as a conservationist, that nothing, no matter how broken, is beyond repair.’

Gold leant back and studied her at this point, fingers steepled in front of him and Belle suddenly became aware of those too. They looked strong, firm, she wondered how one might feel on her waist to in the small of her back, but she turned her attention back to his face. More lines there today, perhaps a little more care-worn.

‘So why live in? Why not rent nearby and travel in.’

‘It was advertised as live-in, there is nowhere nearby to rent and I like to give 110 percent.’ Belle countered, but only earned a raised eyebrow from the host.

She sighed and picked up a fork again to distract herself. ‘I …may have had to leave my previous living space quickly.’

‘On the run, dearie?’

‘Only from an ex-fiancé’ she countered.

‘Steal all his money?’ he was trying to probe her. She was not going to have it.

‘I wish. Might be able to fund that extension of the electricity if I had.’ She picked at the side salad and resolved not to say anything else. She wasn’t about to let the fact that she had found him in flagrante with a red-headed witch add to the reasons her employer might... pity her?

They finished the dinner quickly and mostly in silence, but Belle felt like she wasn’t dismissed.

‘What do you want from working here?’ he suddenly spoke again. ‘What are you going to gain?’

She thought carefully and tilted her head ‘That value of repairing the broken’. She smiled back. ‘I want to achieve. And I’m sure as your head of estate I can deliver.’

‘Nothing else?’

‘Not that I can think of, although I’m sure there will be other benefits.’

‘The work will take forever.’ He responded. ‘There is a lot, it may seem back-breaking, so if you undertake this I want to know you are committed. That you won’t run off after a few months of dusting.’

‘I’m sure I won’t.’ the tone was almost jovial. He was teasing her, making sure she had a commitment.

A sudden thought ran through her head.

‘Just so I’m prepared and don’t harass Officer Swan, can I know if you will be expecting anyone else to join you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ he coldly responded. The jovial tone has disintegrated in an instant.

Belles smile faltered at this. ‘You know, friends?....Family? So I don’t get scared and ring the police’ trying to bring the tone back.

‘No.’ He was abrupt now and stood. ‘No-one else. I see you are finished. I’d like to meet tomorrow, to discuss the most pressing projects. I believe the pipes in the kitchen are causing some issues.’

Belle was startled again but didn’t have time to say anything before he spoke as he limped through the door, back to the foyer.

‘Good evening, Miss French.’ He reached for his cane and his posture softened a moment before he turned his head to call over his shoulder back at her. ‘And don’t forget - you’re here forever.’


	4. Puzzles and Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle gets warnings, ideas and some answers.

Jefferson practically bounced through the long second-floor hallways, clutching a collection of what appeared to be junk. Vases, frames, ornaments and wires mostly, all being collected to add to Belles pile of ‘miscellaneous repairs’. He had just reached the top of the stairs when he heard a soft unusual accent calling to him from the open door to the second floor parlour.

‘So, why so scared, Jeff? Racing around here like there’s a fire under you.’ Belle, smiling at him peeked her head around the doorframe. ‘You’re not avoiding the master of the house are you?’

Jefferson smiled at her. People couldn’t help smiling at Belle, she usually radiated warmth and kindness, and there was a certain playful attitude about her that brought the best out in people. ‘I, fair lady, am scared of nothing and no-one. Except of course the beast that roams the west wing.’

Belle laughed out loud at that. ‘I think “beast” is a little harsh, don’t you?’

‘Are you kidding, Belle? The man is practically a monster.’ Here, Jefferson voice took on an even more dramatic tone, reminding Belle of the gothic vampire films she had loved as a child. ‘He waits, alone in his tower, ready to drink the blood of innocents, stealing their gold and their land, letting no-one near him, for he is ready to deliver the killer blow at any point to one who would disturb his isolation!’

Jefferson had thrown his arms up in the air for dramatic effect before lowering them and giving a chuckle. ‘Well, perhaps not as dramatically as that, but in the entire time I’ve worked here, and bearing in mind that’s on and off since Grace was born ten years ago, Gold has been alone, rude, rough and to be honest, I don’t think he’s even capable of caring about anything. He treats his staff like they don’t exist, he mopes around, has no family or friends and his relationship with the mayor is beyond weird.’

‘The Mayor?’ Belle queried, interest piqued.

‘Yeah. Mayor Mills? She comes by from time to time. They argue, bicker, they scheme, between them the whole area could be under their control when they choose to combine forces, but most often they are in some silly stand-off. I used to wonder if they were, you know, a …thing, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. Mostly’

Belles thoughts went kind of fuzzy at that point. Gold had said he didn’t have family or friends when she asked last night, and she had therefore assumed he was …single? But he could be dating. _That would make sense. He was a rich, handsome man._ A horrible thought of her having to escort random dates from the house after one-night stands flashed into her mind, and her stomach did a funny flutter. He probably wasn’t the type for one night stands. He would take his time with a woman. Show her how he-

‘Belle?’

She snapped back and gave Jefferson a smile. ‘Well, consider me well warned,’ she dropped her voice to a whisper, ‘I shall keep my eyes peeled for the beast of the west wing!’

Jefferson only chuckled again, picked up his collection of junk and started back down the stairs, calling over his shoulder ‘A pretty, sweet thing like you doesn’t stand a chance!’

_

Since their dinner the night before, Belle hadn’t stopped thinking about Gold. She was having difficulty puzzling him out, and as much as she liked a puzzle he was confusing her. Cold, then playful, then distant, then rude. He was impossible to read and difficult to predict. At least she thought that he liked her. Possibly. Still very difficult to tell, but she was sure there had been some jokes in there, kind of. And she usually gave as good as she got, so she wasn’t worried if they just turned out to be actual rudeness. She could hold her own. She was going to make it her business to know everything she could about him, to understand exactly what he wanted, as her employer. but a niggle at the back of her mind had already begun. did she want to know him just as her employer? He was certainly intriguing, and she wanted to know more about _him_ , not just the house.

She had a message passed to her from Mrs Potts this morning, so she had prepared accordingly. It had read:

_Please meet in the library at 2pm. Be prepared to discuss your restoration plans._

So she was in the library, dressed in a cream blouse and red skirt, stood by one of the tall cases, running her fingers over the spines seeking out ones that needed looking at. Gold entered the library behind her. No cane today but a definite limp in one of his legs – maybe he was wearing a brace? She wondered if it was his knew or his ankle or his hips that were the issue, and somehow her thoughts had gotten away from her again before she was dragged back to reality by a lilting scotch accent.

‘Ms French? Shall we begin?’

‘Yes. And, I really would prefer if you called me Belle. I hope to work together for some time and Ms French is very formal. Don’t forget, I’m here forever!’ she spoke brightly, playfully and smiled that winning smile again.

Gold took a second to respond before he spoke, and a funny softness or shadow passed across his eyes. In some lights it could have been mistaken for fondness. ‘As you wish… Belle.’ From his lips it sounded deep and dark and enticing. Belles thoughts were about to drift again before she put her hands on the table and began.

‘Mr Gold, let’s talk about pipes.’

They discussed the major restoration works for nearly two hours, Belle detailing her knowledge of the house and the works, Gold approving the budget and highlighting the issues he foresaw. The grounds would be untameable until the spring, no point clearing the deadwood in the dark and cold. Electricity would come with a price, but they could start with the east wing, alongside the works to the plastering and floors on the ground floor.

At one point Belle was shaking her head at the sheer volume of it all.

‘The cost will be astronomical’ she said, and suddenly blurted out ‘Where do you get the money for this?’

Quick as a flash Gold responded ‘Extortion and blackmail, of course. I’ve collected many a ransom for a stolen goods.’

‘I’m serious’ Belle replied.

‘Me too. In a way.’ He hedged for a moment before continuing. ‘I’m a type of investment fund manager. I make deals with small companies. I pour money in for the promise of a return. It’s practically magic. But it comes with a price.’

‘The price?’

We have control over the companies for a short time. Get what we need from them, occasionally sell on their assets, then divest ourselves. They usually don’t survive after we withdraw support.’

‘That sounds ruthless.’ Belle chimed in.

‘It is, as am I. But it is profitable. And funds my extravagant lifestyle.’ He smirked and gestured at the drab curtains and stained carpets.

‘I’m sure you aren’t ruthless. Not as much as you appear to be.’ Belle leaned forward and stretched out her arm on the table between them, reaching as if to touch his hand.

Gold, immediately withdrew his from the table and stood. ‘Well, that just proves you know nothing, Ms French.’

Just then, his phone rang, he reached to answer and limped out of the room, Belle only hearing a soft ‘Hello?’ when he reached the door, leaving her more in the dark than before.

___

 

‘It’s too hard!’ Henry was bemoaning. He buried his head in his hands and huffed onto the library table.

‘It’s not, don’t be discouraged.’ Belle chided softly, ‘It’s just homework! They wouldn’t ask you if it was too hard.’

‘Easy for you to say. You love this type of thing. Its history and its boring.’

‘Nope, I don’t agree. Family trees are a wonderful thing, you can follow the threads of a family across lives and generations. Even yours. All good secrets can be found in family trees. Now. Who are your mothers parents?’

‘At this point, I don’t think I care.’

‘Henry!’ Belle looked at him so disapprovingly, he reached out and pulled the tree towards him, muttering about useless old knowledge.

Belle was quiet for a moment, before more thoughts popped into her head.

‘Henry. Does your mother know you come here?’

‘Yeah, she comes here sometimes too. Her and Mr Gold have meetings sometimes.’

‘Just meetings? Like business meetings?’

‘Um, I think so.’ Henry mumbled ‘What else would there be?’

‘True. True.’ Belle went back to her book on genealogy when she had a sudden idea. She knew so much about the history of the house, it must include more on its current owner. Surely some of the history was his too. And she knew that most of the family items were held in the study. She would impress him by finding out about the family he didn’t claim to have. She would unlock the puzzle of him by his history.

__

It was nearing midnight as Belle unlocked the last trunk in the study on the west corridor and started unpiling the documents inside. She had found out about his great-uncle, and learned more about his father than she wanted to know. Belle had read journals, seen deeds for houses and family heirlooms that were numerous beyond belief.

At the bottom of the final trunk, she saw something glinting in the torchlight she was using. Pulling the frame from the bottom of the trunk, dusty and splintered at the corners, she held it up in front of her. She moved the torch closer to the glass, tracing lines down from the Lord and Earls of Weston, their wives, Elizabeths, Margarets, Janes and Ediths until he saw what she wanted to see. Something about him. There, embroidered in the white silk behind the fogged glass, a tapestry family tree, emblazoned with the Westfield crest and arms. She saw his parents, Malcolm and Fiona, she saw his date of birth. She saw-

_Remus Gold, 13 th Earl of Westfield, married Milah Denbeigh_ and a date, some 15 years before.

And there, underneath a name she had not expected, but definitely part of the puzzle.

_Bael Remus Gold_ , born 14 years before.

A son. He had a son.


	5. Flipping and Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Gold are drawing closer, but something is pulling him away...

Belle had hugged the secret she had uncovered to her chest all night long, feeling it weigh oddly heavily on her considering it concerned her employer. She assumed the rest of the household would know about the earldom, it would make sense for the house and grounds to be one of the family’s long-standing assets but did they know about his son? Jefferson said he had been here ten years, had he known about Remus’s son?

Remus. Now she said the name to herself, she noted that it suited him. It was unusual, classical and wolfish. Definitely part of the whole look of him. It would make sense as to why he preferred Mr Gold. It was a special name, probably meant only for his family. Those he cared about.

She was desperate to know more about them, especially the now-fifteen year old son. Where was he? Had he left him, had he wanted to go? Had there been a terrible mishap? Belle’s stomach clutched at the thought, but skimmed over it. And no mention of the wife ether, although she assumed that he was single now, if not in the recent past. He himself had denied any family. The mystery of the solitary landlord, and the unusual phone calls he took, only increased. Belle finally closed her eyes as the sun broke over the line of yew trees she could see from her window.

__

The next day, there was the weekly staff meeting. All internal and external members were expected to attend. Belle had only started these out of a curiosity to know more about who was working on the house, but now they had developed into a strange familial bonding session, and as she sat in the parlour, the chairs slowly being filled by her colleagues she felt a sense of warmth within her. This place, cold and broken as it was, was beginning to feel like home, and it was despite the fact she felt like death warmed over due to another night of no sleep.

Jefferson, Mary Margaret, David, Mrs Lucas and Mrs Potts all sat around as they chatted jovially about their day so far. Mary Margaret was detailing he restoration of the banisters and stairs and talking of other people to bring into the fold.

‘If you have the budget, of course, Belle. Marco is a fantastic craftsman and his son August is really doing very well at the trade.’ She smiled broadly, as usual, and Belle nodded and took notes.

‘We’ll see how the re-plastering goes first I think. Wouldn’t want to get too much of the house in a mess while Mr Gold is in residence.’ Here, she took a small pause.

‘I assume he never stays for long?’ Belle glanced around at the circle, hoping someone would reply.

‘Well…’ Mrs Potts, a grey-haired rounded woman, with a generally benevolent attitude started slowly. ‘Not recently. He travels and when he is here, he is… reclusive. I don’t expect he will mind to the banisters being redone.’

‘Mrs Potts, I would like the privilege of being allowed to answer for myself, if it’s not too much trouble.’ The low burr of the accent startled Belle, whose back was to the door, and the master of the house, in a brown suit today, leant on his cane and entered the room. ‘Would you all mind giving myself and my estate manager some time to discuss some urgent matters?’

The group sidled out of the parlour as Belle stood and smoothed out her blouse and trousers, but she was sure she heard Mrs Lucas hiss to Mary Margaret ‘..and they had dinner the other night, too…’ as they reached the corridor. Mr Gold shut the door of the parlour behind the exiting staff and turned to face Belle.

‘Ms French, -‘

‘Belle.’ She immediately interjected. ‘And we have had this discussion before. And much like you, I don’t like wasting my time, Mr Gold.’ Belles playful tone would have bordered on flirtatious if the comment from Mrs Lucas hadn't reined her in.

He outright smirked at this. ‘If you are expecting me to reciprocate and allow you to call me by a less formal name, then I‘m afraid you are very much mistaken.’

‘No, that won’t be necessary. Proceed, Lord Gold, Earl of Westfield.’

Golds smile grew wider at this, and a chuckle escaped him, despite himself, and he gestured towards a sofa for Belle to sit on, before joining her.

‘I see you’ve made the connection between myself and the peerage, after all I did inherit the house. Although I do prefer a more modest title in my day to day dealings.’

‘Does it make you seem more approachable? Not being referred to as Sir?

‘Do you think I am unapproachable?’ Gold countered quick as a flash.

‘No. Not necessarily. But so far, I haven’t been able to pin down whether you approve of me or not. And despite my love of independence, I do also love to be approved of.’

‘Which must have made the philandering boyfriend even more of a disappointment. he obviously didn't approve enough.’

‘You assume he-‘

‘I _know_ he.’ Gold responded. ‘I have taken the liberty of doing a few checks on your history, and it included some of your personal life. I hope you don’t mind.’ The last sentence was casual, as if an invasion of that magnitude was everyday and normal. In an odd way it made Belle feel relieved that she knew something about him, but didn’t stop her being annoyed.

‘Was it necessary to delve into my rather embarrassing history with such vigor?’ she stood now, from the sofa and paced slightly.

‘I was letting you live in my house, I wanted to be sure you didn’t associate with any… undesirables. and you were such an unexpected candidate. Although I can’t say your ex seems like someone I would normally associate you with.’ Golds tone was smooth and calm and almost enticing. Belle wasn't sure of she wanted to wring his neck or grasp his waist. either way, she wanted her hands on him, so best to put them away for now.

‘Oh really.' Belle snapped, all playfulness gone. ‘Because you know so much about me.’ Her arms were folded across her chest, deep angry breaths rising from it, eyes blazing.

Instead of matching her annoyance, Gold seemed to relax into the sofa, but he was now looking at his hands.

‘I know much more about you than you think, Belle.’

She only glared at him in response, before he continued.

‘I know you care and take your time with projects. I know you are passionate about the connections between people and their belongings, I know you have befriended every person on the staff and built a community out of one poor housekeeper and a stray groundsman. Yes, Belle I know much more about you than you think. And your so-called ex with his cruelty and thoughtlessness didn’t really seem like your type.’

During his little speech, Belles hands had dropped to her sides, her lips parted slightly in astonishment, feeling her breath slow but her heart quicken. He knew about her. He had been studying her. _Why, why, why?_

She tried her best to keep her retort casual.

‘And you think you know why my type is?’

‘Oh I think I would know a match for you when I see it.’ Here his eyes took on that odd soft look again and she couldn’t help notice how deep and dark they were, being entirely focused on her own. There was a beat, a pause, a _something_ , before it was broken and Gold spoke again. ‘Although I can’t promise you’ll find anyone around here. And in the meantime I have guests coming and I don’t want a surprise visit from Officer Swan and Deputy Jones any time soon.’

‘Guests?’ Belle was intrigued and raised her eyebrows at him.

‘The Mayor and a few delegates. I was hoping you could help arrange something spectacular.’

Belle shifted her hands to clasp behind her to look casual as that odd lurch in her stomach stabbed at her again. ‘I certainly can. I hear from Henry that you and Mayor Mills get on well. She often comes here. I would be excited to meet her in person.’

‘You know her?’

‘Only on the phone, from explaining how Henry often comes home so… dishevelled.’

‘Well, she is a force to be reckoned with.’ Gold smirked and Belles stomach started doing unwanted flips, but she still couldn’t pin down why. Everything about him was abrupt and yet she felt that they were getting closer, and not just as her employer.

___

After discussing the next few days and the planning, Belle was sure that they were borderline flirting again, and Gold stepped out of the parlour leaving Belle behind to pace the corridor to the stairs and up towards the wing where he slept. As he walked, leaning heavily on his cane today, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out, read a message from MD, snarled at the content and shoved the phone back where it belonged.

It set off a chain of thought in his head that led to him writing a note to Belle and leaving it for her on the table in the foyer.

_Belle,_

_As the dinner with the Mayor will also be a social occasion, you are welcome to bring a guest of your choice. Please ensure they dress appropriately._

_Gold._

When Belle read the note her stomach stopped doing flips and instead sunk, and she was starting to figure out why.


	6. Dinner and Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guests descend for a dinner and a dance.

The house was beyond ready. It was absolutely divine - between them, Belle, Jefferson, the Nolan's and Mrs Potts had decked every surface in lights and greenery. The house was filled with glittering decorations as if it was ready for a winter festival. Mr Gold had said to impress and they had certainly delivered. Belle and Mrs Potts stood in the dining room and admired the long table, adorned with silver and wreaths.

'I still can't believe you get to attend, Belle. I know Mr Gold and his cronies aren't going to be the best company, but the evening looks set to be a splendid one.'

'Mmmm' Belle hummed in agreement. 'I still haven't procured a date though. Mr Gold has asked me to provide an appropriately dressed guest.' Belle still felt a tiny sink in her stomach when she thought about the note left for her. She hadn't mentioned it to him in their day-to-day discussions but they both knew she was expected to bring someone. And he had been rather rude again in the meantime. Or rather, distant.  _Or maybe he is just being professional,_ Belle mused.  _Maybe it was in my head._

Here Mrs Potts gave a sly grin and continued. 'Well, I do have someone in mind if you fancied meeting someone new.'

Belle blinked and looked a little taken aback. 'Well… I mean... are you sure? Will they mind being thrown into a rather formal dinner?... Who are they?'

The kind-faced lady gave a little chuckle. 'I am sure, they will not mind, they are well schooled in being a gentleman and it's actually... my son. Charles. But everyone calls him Chip.'

'Oh Mrs Potts, are you-'

'No my dear, not another word. I'll send him up to you later. Appropriately dressed of course. I've told him about you, he has been hoping to be introduced for a while.'

Mrs Potts sidled off and Belle folded her arms across her chest, and gazed at some of the greenery along the walls wondering whether to adjust it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something she had definitely not agreed on. Mistletoe, in the doorway between the dining room and the ballroom. Huffing slightly, she cursed Jefferson in her head and dragged a chair over to the doorway. This was not agreed and for some reason Belle really didn't want anyone kissing tonight.

She stood on her tiptoes on the chair, straining to reach the offending decoration, and had just grasped it in her fingers, when the unsteady cushioning gave way beneath her right ankle, and caused her to give a little yelp and fall directly into the arms of the man in question, thankfully without a cane today.

He had come up behind her while inspecting and had been about to comment on her dedication when she had tumbled into his arms, dressed in blue and looking divine. Belles arm was wrapped around his neck, while he grasped her back and shoulders, and for one moment, they simply looked at each other, and Belle could feel his breath on her cheek and the warmth of his skin on her arm.

Belle spoke first. 'Thank you' in a volume only slightly above a whisper.

'Tis no matter.' he responded. 'But I must put you down... my leg.' Belle looked mortified and hopped down, and brushed her dress off.

'Of course, I'm so sorry, it’s just… I was...'

'Removing the mistletoe. Quite right. We wouldn't want any of that tonight. But in all other respects the rooms look lovely.' He paused here for a second. 'I hope you have found a guest.' 

'I have, his name's Charles.'

Mr Gold grunted here, and then stretched out his hand towards her, Belles heart leaped at the thought of his touch, but he only took the mistletoe from her fingers.

'Best take this. Wouldn't want any further accidents.'

***

Belle dressed carefully. She decided on the only thing she thought suitable, although it seemed a little flashy. The entire dress was a dulled golden colour that still shimmered slightly in the light, cut low at the front and gathered at the waist. It was formal but this was to be a formal occasion. She did one final twist of a loose curl, and descended.

She waited in the foyer for her date, and he did not disappoint. Charles was tall, blonde and very handsome, with rather lovely green eyes, and very, very pleasant. They introduced themselves and chatted about their jobs. Chip was a sous-chef at a Michelin-starred restaurant, and his mother was proud of him for it. Just as Belle laughed at a joke Chip made about the chef and his passion for 'Le Poisson' they were joined by the master of the house. They both turned to greet him, and Belle noticed he had opted for a tuxedo this evening.

'Sir, it's a pleasure to meet you and to attend this evening.' There was no doubt about it, Chip was good. He shook Golds hand and smiled a rather charming smile.

'Thank you. The guests will be arriving shortly, I hope you enjoy yourself' he replied in a dark tone and almost instantaneously the bell rang signifying the beginning of the evening.

Regina, dressed in dramatic red escorted by a handsome dark-haired man on her arm, swept into the foyer and made the rounds. Belle found his name to be Robin, and he seemed to have a sharp sense of humour. She was shortly followed by Zelena Green and her companion Hamish, Allan Midas and his daughter Kathryn, George and Esther King and finally Dorothy Gale and Ruby Lucas. Belle made the rounds and greeted each couple, finding she especially hit it off with Ruby and Dorothy, and made a mental note to follow up with them later. It all looked very elegant, very luxurious and for a moment Belle thought she had entered into a very bizarre dream. She noted that Gold himself had not brought a date.

They were invited to sit at the long table, and Belle found her name card indicating her place had moved. She wasn't next to Charles anymore, instead sandwiched between Regina and George King. She smiled as best she could at each and sat down, awaiting the first course.

‘My dear,’ Regina began ‘You have done some marvellous work here. I haven’t seen the house looking this splendid in many years.’

‘Thank you’ Belle responded ‘I won’t deny it has been a little tricky, but Mr Gold has been incredibly generous.’

‘Oh, of that I’m aware. He gets what he wants, there is no denying that. And tonight he wants me, as Mayor, to greenlight a little project with the rest of these well-to-do’s renovating the town as well. He seems to have a new lease of life.’

‘I’m pleased for him.’

‘Are you?’ Regina raised her eyebrow and Belle couldn’t help but blush furiously at her questioning gaze. ‘I see. Really, dear I must put in a word of warning here. He can be vicious. It’s not unheard of for him to be cruel.’

Belle swallowed a gulp of wine and carried on.

‘I was so pleased to see Henry the other day…’

 ___________

As the plates were cleared away Mr Gold cleared his throat and spoke again.

‘I thought, given the circumstances of this new venture between us all, a little celebration and perhaps, a little dancing wouldn’t go amiss.’

As he spoke, the door to the ballroom opened and the sounds of violins strained in a sweet waltz. The guests smiled and laughed, rising from the table to lead each other into the ballroom. Charles came to claim Belle from her seat and smiled as he took her hand. They danced gaily around the room, sweeping past Ruby and Dorothy and almost knocking down Regina and Robin as they cut around the room.

They slowed to laugh for a moment, and were just about to start again when there was a tap on Chips shoulder. ‘I’m afraid I must cut in.’ Gold, handsome in his tuxedo stood there quietly.

‘Oh. Of course, sir.’ Chip stepped away, but was immediately picked up by Zelena West, who had sat Hamish down as he was feeling rather dizzy.

‘You dance?’

‘Only on occasion. I felt this occasion required it.’ He stepped forward and slid a hand around Belles waist, resting lightly on the small of her back, taking the other in his own warm hand. They started swaying to the music for a moment before stepping into the familiar one-two-three pattern of the dance.

‘This evening has been spectacular, Belle. I thank you for it. I’m certain it has been the key to securing the support of all those here.’

‘I’m sure it was more you than the decorations.’

‘You’d think that, but I’m a difficult man to like, so charming people does help. And this is charming.’ _As are you_ , he thought.

‘So why do it? Why pour money into the town? What benefit does it have for you?’

‘My dear, it benefits me as I own the majority of the homes and land. This place needs new lease of life if I am to be settled here. And I do plan to be settled here.’ He stopped then, and Belle knew that conversation was closed.

They stepped along, drawing incrementally closer as they draw around the room.

‘How has your date been, Belle? I’m glad to see him appropriately attired. As are you.’

Belle rolled her eyes at this. Appropriately? She thought she looked very good.

‘Fine, except I didn’t get to sit near him at dinner. Some oversight with the place-settings?’ Belle raised an eyebrow, with a small smile on the edge of her lips, trying to see if he was responsible.

‘Undoubtedly. The only flaw in the evening, I assume.’ Gold returned.

Belle smiled again, but looked away to where Chip was dancing with Zelena. ‘Well, I have been dragged away to dance with my boss, so there’s another.’ She moved her hand to tap at his neck to show it was a joke. ‘Charles is very nice. He jokes and laughs and is very friendly.’

‘Exactly what you want? A handsome hero to take your breath away?’ Gold murmured, his breath almost on her ear now.

Belle didn’t respond immediately but turned to look at Gold. Remus, she thought.

‘I don’t think so. I’m almost sure what I want, and I don’t think that’s it.’

‘Almost?’ Golds voice was low again, and their faces were so close, and his breath was tickling her face and Belle was regretting getting rid of the mistletoe earlier.

‘Almost. I think I’ll soon understand what I want. I just need to find out a few final things.’

‘You should be careful. You know what they say about curiosity and cats.’

'I do, but like you, I'm always one for getting what I want.'

They were stopped by the music dying and the guests chattering, and Belle felt Golds grip slip away as he went to say goodbye to his guests, but as he did so, she saw something green in the inside jacket pocket that could have been mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter takes place the same evening....


	7. One Little Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the guests have gone, Gold and Belle clear away... beware, lots of talking....

The door swung closed for one final time, and a still air settled on the foyer of Weston Hall. The sun was not far from rising, so Belle had sent the rest of the staff home, asking them to clear away in the afternoon of the next day. This left Belle stood in the foyer with Gold, who looked tired, but not unhappy. In a way he seemed almost satisfied, as if he had really achieved something. After their dance earlier Belle felt a little… unsettled? Yes, that was the feeling. She thought she had her stomach swings under control, but found that as the evening had drawn on she had been fooling herself. Yes, he was reserved but there was a wealth of feeling there, she knew it. She just had to find out what was holding him back. Why would he keep all those plans to himself.

Gold turned after he locked the front door, and stepped towards her.

'You must go to bed. It’s been a full and exhausting evening.' Gold had reached up and had started to untie his bowtie, leaving his shirt open at the neck, and he now trailed the fabric through his fingers, his dark eyes fixed on Belles own.

'No, I'm not tired. I think I'll start clearing away.' Belle smoothed down her golden dress, flashed a brief smile and stepped towards the fireplace of the foyer as if she was going to start pulling down the foliage there and then.

'Nonsense' Gold huffed. 'You'll achieve not much and ruin your dress. If you really can't sleep, have a nightcap. I find whiskey usually sends me to sleep.'

Here she turned, and her smile grew broader and filled with, if possible, even more warmth. 'I will. If, of course, you'll join me.' She tilted her head questioningly, and for a moment, Golds stomach did that same funny flip that Belles had done, not too many days ago. In his mind, he heard the whisper of the dark that inhabited him.  _This is a bad idea_ , it called but for one moment where his head was spinning slightly, he ignored it.

'Of course.' And he gestured towards the stairs, before returning to the dining room and bringing with him a glass decanter of amber liquid and two cut glasses. He poured a generous measure into each, before sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. Belle hadn't really made any move, so he looked up at her from his seat, before she sat down beside him, spreading her skirts so she could sit a little uncomfortably on the floor.

They each took a sip, feeling the fiery liquid follow down their throats and a beat passed.

‘Mr Gold, why was tonight so important for you? I watched you charm each and every person into agreeing with your plans. You describes yourself as ruthless once, with your job why not just pour your own money into the town and be done with them all?’

Gold tilted the glass, so the whiskey ran round it before answering.

‘I could. I could bulldoze them into doing what I want. Coerce and bully them into implementing my plans but it may scare them away. Ruin the thing I need to build.’

Belle almost laughed at this. ‘Need to build? Don’t you have everything you could possibly want?’

Gold looked directly into Belles eyes here and took one deep, heavy breath. ‘No. I do not have everything I want.’

‘And investing money in the town will bring that thing to you?’

‘Possibly. Its not just the money, it’s the place, the community, and money can’t buy that. It needs to be not just a house and town, it needs to be a home.’

Belle took a deep breath herself, and took the step she had been wanted to take for a few weeks.

‘Is it to do with your …son?’ her voice was quiet, trying not to scare him away.

Golds face was impassive, if what Belle had said had shocked him, he did not show it. He took another gulp of his whiskey and his head dipped closer towards his knees. For a moment, Belle thought he was going to pass out.

‘It is to do with him. My son. Did Mrs Potts tell you?’

‘Does Mrs Potts know? About him? No-one has ever mentioned him to me, I found out from some things I saw in the study.’

‘She knows. She knows I married impulsively some years ago when I was lonely and had no family to disagree with the match. She knows my son was born into a life of uncertainty. The estate was almost destitute then, and my ex-wife thought I had more money than I did. She left with Bael after 18 months of temper and unhappiness, and tried to stop me from seeing him. She lives in Florida now. So does he.’

‘How old is he?’ Belles voice was so gentle and she was being so kind. Golds voice was almost a whisper. And he couldn’t understand. Why was he telling her all this? The words were spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. What kind of power did this little woman have over him?

‘He is almost 14. Next month.’

‘I don’t understand, why can’t you see him, why does he never come here?’

‘Milah at first cited my irresponsible ways, saying I had nothing to support him, I was land rich but cash poor, and the estate has so many bylaws I couldn’t sell the land for cash, so she took him. I got a job that brings me more money than I can spend, but even that wasn’t enough for her. I go to see him now but Milah often stops me. I asked if he could come here to stay, even for a few weeks each year, but she said it wasn’t good for him. It’s cold, damp, no electricity in some parts, the town with nothing in it. It’s no place for a child to be brought up, so he must stay with her.’

‘So that’s why. Why you needed the towns investment, to bring it up to a place where a child can reasonably live. And the house…’

A simple, quiet and sad ‘yes’ came from Golds lips, before he finished his drink and put the glass down with a  clink on the stair next to him.

Belles hand inched closer to his, resting on the step, until she grasped at his hand, and this time, he didn’t pull away so she gripped it tightly, trying to express empathy with every second he allowed.

‘I haven’t been the best father. I could have fought harder, I could have been there more instead of clinging to this life, this house...’ he tailed off, shaking his head, but not letting go of Belles hand.

‘But you are trying now. That what matters. And one day, he will see all the work you did to bring him back.’

Gold turned to look at her again, and a weak smile came from him, and his hand slipped from hers to run through his hair, pushing it back from his face. So Belle knew. What difference would it make? And surely she would be kind enough to not make him feel awful about his disclosure.

The conversation turned on a pinhead and he began again.

‘Chip was everything you expected, then?’

Belle gave a little chuckle. ‘As I said before, he was a gentleman. He was like a light refreshment on a hot day.’

‘So you’ll see him again?’

‘If I’m invited to any other balls or dinner parties, he ensures me a good time.’

‘But nothing more.’ That dark rumble of a voice again, making Belle shiver, even thought it was warm.

Belle shrugged and took the final swig of her drink, making her feel satisfied and every so slightly braver. ‘I’m not looking for that “Handsome Hero” you were so explicit about. So no, right now, nothing more.’

That beat, that pause again, filled with expectation almost it laid heavy on them both. In that second of silence, Gold remembered the feel of her skin on his when they danced. Belle thought of the way his eyes were drawn to hers whenever they touched. It was here Belle decided what she wanted to do. She began with a little quiver in her voice.

‘I need to ask you something. I need to know. You and I, even since we came and that awful incident with the police I felt that… You understood me. And I thought in a strange way I understood you too. We get on and I think you trust me, but… You keep pushing me away. You are sometimes so cold. Don’t… don’t you want to spend your time with me? Not just as your estate manager but as your…friend?’ She had said the word friend with some hesitation but they both knew what she meant.

Gold stood abruptly, and looked almost like he was angry. He began to pace the floor, stuttering to get the words out.

‘I…I… I don’t want to, but of course I HAVE to. Can’t you see how ridiculous it is? I’m so much older, I’m your employer, for goodness sakes. People wouldn’t understand. I’m not sure even you understand me. People don’t like me. I’m a very difficult man to love.’ He had slowed down here, and looked lost and forlorn. His jacket removed and his shirt open at the neck, it was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him.

Belle walked to meet him, and took his hands slowly.

‘All of that doesn’t matter. Just don’t push me away if you don’t want to.’

Golds breath hitched again, and then it came out. A whisper that echoed in the large hall.

‘I don’t want to.’

Belle’s hands slid up his arms to reach around his neck, tugging him closer to her, their faces a fraction from each others, as they paused feeling their breath and Belle swore she could feel his heartbeat as his chest was pressed against hers.

Her eyes closed and she leant forward to be met with his lips on hers, soft, firm and warm. His hands moved from her waist up, up and into her hair, holding her closer, firmer, more desperate as they pressed themselves together to feel that warmth between them.They stood holding each other, kissing gently but with feeling, dressed in their finest, but all alone.

God, this was everything that he wanted, she was everything that all his life had not been. Warm and kind and the thing to make the house a real _home_ … what on earth did she see in him?

But for Belle, the ice was broken, and the sun was coming up.


	8. Nasty Shocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after doesn't seem to go well.

The kiss had lasted for longer than a lifetime, an eternal summers day in Belles’ eyes, yet it had in reality probably only been a minute or two before Belle pulled her lips away, only to smile at Remus’s still-closed eyes and run her fingers through his hair, enjoying the closeness of him. He opened his eyes slowly, gave a small lopsided grin back at her for a moment, before a more sombre look set in.

‘It’s late.’ He mumbled, still a little dazed. Or was it tiredness? He couldn’t quite tell but he was lightheaded.

‘On the contrary, it’s very early. See the sun?’ Belle tilted he head towards one of the foyer windows, where the peach-gold rays of a winter sun was rising. ‘The staff will be here soon...’ She didn’t bother finishing the sentence, but he dropped his arms from her waist and started to step towards the staircase a little hesitantly, that sombre look deepening in the lines around his eyes and in a firm line of his lips.

Belle smiled as she climbed the stairs, until they parted ways at the top.

‘A truly magnificent evening. Goodnight, Remus, I’ll see you... well, today.’ She mock curtseyed, still revelling slightly, determined to hold onto that lightness she had felt.

He only returned with a quiet ‘Goodnight, Belle’ before making his way to his own room, not changing a glance back at her retreating form, before sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his head with one hand and tracing his lips with the fingertip of the other. His mind was turning through different thoughts faster than he could process them, before eventually falling fully-clothed into a dreamless sleep.

_

The next day, Belle was woken at nearly midday by a commotion of loud noises in the corridor not too far from her room. Hopping into a nearby skirt and blouse, forgoing tights and slipping on the nearest pair of shoes, she bolted out the room to find Mrs Carter, an occasional cleaner, giving Henry Mills a piece of her mind.

‘- If you think that because your mother is the mayor that you will be let off from this, then you are mistaken young man. This is an antique, and look at it! I’ll be-‘

‘Mrs Carter, Henry, whatever is the matter? Is there a need for this?’ Belle interjected, trying to give off an air of authority. Henry and the woman were facing off to each other, Henry was blushing red to the roots of his hair, and holding in his hand a torn parchment, covered in elaborate ink and calligraphy.

‘Ms French, this boy has destroyed a family artefact of incredible value. That charter was one of the founding families deeds and you have-‘

Here, Henry tied to jump in. ‘I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to bring it to Belle to look at, if you hadn’t tried to snatch it out of my hand-‘

‘You impertinent boy! How can you-‘

‘Enough’ Belle hissed. ‘Mrs Carter, I will deal with this, please go to the kitchens, David and Mary Margaret should be along later to help move some of the older equipment so it can be cleaned, I’m sure they will need your direction.'

Mrs Carter only looked at Henry with a look of disgust before leaving them standing in the corridor. Belle gently took the charter from his hands and taking in the boys evident distress only made a little noise in her throat.

‘Easily fixed Henry, I wouldn’t spend two more minutes thinking about it.’ She smiled and tapped his cheek fondly. ‘What were you doing here anyway? How did you find it?’

‘In one of the studies. It was in the desk, after you told me about family history I thought you would want to see it.’

‘And so I do. Thank you for bringing it to me.’ Belle put her hand on his shoulder and guided hi towards the stairs. ‘Now go and find Jefferson, he found some things in the gardens you might find interesting.'

_

Belle was working on the charter, trying to seal the rip using some of the natural glue when her phone rang. Laying down the tools, she grinned at the number before answering, ready to jabber like a moron.

‘Ariel, I kid you not, you will not believe the night I had last night.’

_Belle, unless you ended up in the bed of an amazingly hot catch, which is unlikely in that hell-hole you’re in, it’s not going to top my night._

Belle chuckled before continuing. ‘Back to your hot catch later. I told you about the fancy dinner I was helping to host?’

_You did, did you get a date in the end?_

‘Well yes, as a matter of fact, his name was Chip-‘

_-and how is Chip in the sack?_

‘Ari, don’t be presumptuous. I did not bed Chip, despite him being rather handsome and quite… well, lovely.’

_This story is rapidly going downhill. Tell me something happened, you have been away from the rest of us for too long. Quick fumble in a closet?_

‘Something did happen… just not with Chip.’

 _Wait, what? With who?_ Ariel called down the phone. And after a seconds pause she continued,  _Waiting with baited breath here, Bluebelle._

Belle took a big gulp. ‘I … I kissed Mr Gold.’

_Well, fuck me, I did not expect that. Isn’t he your boss? Don’t you live in the same house as him? How hammered were you?_

‘I had had some wine and whiskey… but not a lot’ Belles voice dropped slightly, sensing Ariels disapproval.

_Isn’t he a thousand years older than you? And from what you told me, a bit of a stuck-up bastard? God, Belle... that’s not like you. Don’t you always do the sensible thing? I was just joking about sleeping with Chip._

‘It’s not like that, he’s sweet, underneath and he cares about more than people think-‘

_He’s also your employer who lives with you. Wow, what happened with Greg really screwed you over didn’t it? You don’t have to go for inappropriate second best-_

‘He’s not second best!’ Belle burst out, angry now. ‘He is better than you know and if you had listened for two seconds I could have told you all about it. How we had a wonderful evening, how we have been growing closer, he told me about his-‘

_Nothing changes the fact you can’t do anything with him, and you will most likely end up out on your ass if you pursue this and it goes wrong, and he turns out to be the bastard you had him pegged as in the beginning._

A dreadful silence, before Ariel, quieter now, spoke again.

_Consider this. Would your mother be happy with your choices right now?_

Belle hung up the phone and slammed it on the table, spilling the glue across the parchment.

-

It had taken her an hour to calm down enough to start picking up some of the day to day things, trying to get back into the swing. Doorframes need sanding, speak to David, chair need varnishing, see if Mary Margaret will assist, checking things off in her head, she was making imaginary progress with the house when Mrs Potts put her head around the door.

‘Belle, seeing as Mr Gold won’t be here, do you mind if Mrs Lucas doesn’t do dinner, and yu fend for yourself tonight, as you used to?’

At this, Belles stomach plummeted through the floor. Keeping calm, she questioned:

‘Mr Gold has gone? He didn’t tell me. Where? When will he be back?’ Her hands started to wring. She had been counting on a friendly face, even if it was the face the argument had been about.

‘Oh, lord knows, dearie. He can be away for weeks, months when he goes. I’m sure he’ll let us know soon enough. So that’s a yes on the dinner?’

Belle nodded mutely, giving a weak smile, before the door slammed shut and she was left alone.

Gone. Without a word to her, or any indication. She had moved too fast, she had scared him away and now Ariel would be right, and everything would be ruined. She would have to leave the job she loved because she had pushed because she had seen something she wanted and couldn't wait.

Belle felt that the tears that escaped her were the only possible reaction to such a crushing disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter, I solemnly promise a) significant Rumbelle interaction and b) rating change. oh and c) more Golds perspective.


	9. After the calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Gold went and what happened when he came back.

He hated Florida. He hated the unbearable heat in summer, the garishness, the propensity for neon signs and sickeningly sweet cartoon characters that seemed to be everywhere. Why on earth Milah felt the need to live here was beyond him, and yet it was here he flew every time he wanted to see his son. And here he was, after long dry hours on a last-minute spot on a commercial flight.

He had hammered on the door with an urgency that Bae said made Milah jump out of her skin, and after the usual sniping about last-minute visits and unexpected guests, Gold had managed to spend time with Bae down near a relatively sandy seafront, a Cuban sandwich in one hand and fries in the other, with weather that Gold would call seasonable, even if it was December. Gold had caught up on his home life, his school, and how Bae had been in trouble recently with his peers.

‘I wouldn’t call it bullying, I just don’t get them.’ Bae shrugged and stuffed another fry in his mouth. ‘I can stand up for myself. I just wish I wasn’t here.

Gold shook his head and twisted his mouth into a grimace. ‘I’m doing what I can, you know.’

‘I know.’ Bae countered. And it’s not that I don’t like living with Mom, because that’s ok, she does her best. And I do ok in school, but it doesn’t really feel like I’m supposed to stay here. I dunno. Whatever.’ Teenage silence set in and Gold leant forward, discarding his trash on the seat next to him.

‘You know I’m working on a project. Back home.’ Gold kept his voice casual. Although he now had a greenlight, the project wasn’t done yet.

‘Yeah.’ Bae slouched down in on the bench grunting his answer non-committedly. He had gotten taller, even since the last visit, sprouting up so he was almost on par with his father, dark curly hair getting near his shoulders.

‘When it’s done, you can come to me more. Stay longer, be in the house. Maybe spend holidays there with me.’

There was a little pause, then a quieter ‘Yeah?’

‘Mmm’ Gold replied. ‘It’s coming on well actually. Got a good staff up and running. I hardly have to go into the office anymore these days so I can be on hand. The mayors approved some town collaborations which should make the town a bit more vibrant. Bring more people in, get new businesses started.’ He spoke with energy and enthusiasm, some of which was infectious.

‘The staff have been great. You wouldn’t recognise the house. I bought in an estate manager who does most of the heavy lifting as it were. She’s bought in a bit of a motley crew of locals-

‘She?’ Bae suddenly looked almost interested.

‘Yes. She. Belle French.’ Gold was in no way ready to explain about Belle and the kiss and oh, God, everything else, but it seemed right to mention her. She was part of the house now, and the house was his life at the moment. ‘She restores the furniture and historic items, and has been advising on some of the more delicate items. There’s a 1830’s clock we looked at and –‘

Bae suddenly piped up and interrupted again. ‘You should open an antiques store.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘It would clear out the junk from the house and you actually are interested in what’s there. And then you wouldn’t bore me to death with it. Just you and Belle. Just a thought.’

Golds face turned quizzical for a moment before a funny peace settled, making his usually severe features smile and look warm. ‘But a good one.’

**

The visit was short and before 72 hours had gone by Gold was back at the airport, being hustled through security and dreading the flight back. Three days visiting was never enough. A thousand days wasn’t enough, and it was all too soon when the wheels touched down in rainy winter weather and he dragged himself to the waiting car to be driven to the estate.

He hadn’t called her. He hadn’t explained why he had to jump away to go an visit Bae at a moment’s notice, or why he felt the need to calm himself down after the hectic and rather manic lead up to whatever it was. He had resolved to enter and explain calmly, to ask for her forgiveness if she was angry. Maybe she wouldn’t be, maybe she had been relieved that she had gone. Milah had been relieved. Would she still even be there? Maybe she had packed it in after a drunken mistake.

Reaching the house at around 7pm, he stepped in, looking for signs of life, saw light and heard voices coming from the dining room. Laughing, followed by murmurs of conversation and the clinking of cutlery. It seems Belle had company.

He pushed open the door to find, Jefferson, Mrs Potts, Mrs Lucas the Nolans and Marco and August Booth and Henry all sat along the dining table, chatting merrily. No-one seemed to notice him come in, until Belle, Sat at the head of the table, speaking to Jefferson on her left caught sight of him and stopped speaking, turning a little pale, with pink spots on her cheeks.

Silence very quickly fell, no-one quite knew how he would react. And it was Gold who gained control of the situation first.

He held up his hands, palms upwards. ‘Please, don’t let me interrupt.’ And he made a motion as if her were going to back out of the door again.

‘No, wait, Mr Gold’ Belle called after him, standing he napkin cast to the floor. ‘I invited everyone to have dinner.’

‘I can see that, Belle. I have just arrived back from Florida, and am tired, so if you’ll excuse me.’ Again he backed towards the door.

‘Then you must be hungry too. Please, sit with us. Please. It’s a whole house event!’

Gold cast his eyes around. ‘Whole house, except for Mrs Carter?’

Belle shrugged and ‘Well, she doesn’t like Mexican and she was annoying us…’

Gold stopped, sighed and said ‘well, if it’s a whole house event...’

**

Gold had been seated between Mary Margaret and David, and on the whole had held his composure admirably, bearing in mind he thought they were so sweet, they would rot his teeth if he spoke to them for too long. They talked about their son Neal and their plans for living on a farm in the future. David had an affinity for sheep. They also kept their questions about Gold to themselves. The dinner was soon over, and cleared away and everyone said goodnight, Jefferson leaving with a concerned look on his face, leaving Belle and Gold alone again. He couldn’t help but cast his mind back to only a few days ago, when his dinner guests had left.

Belle, dressed in blue again and looking more beautiful than ever, he noted, gave him no indication of how she felt. She opened her mouth and for a second Gold’s head buzzed with what she was going to say. Would she scream? Shout? Be angry? She had seemed relatively happy to see him at dinner, would she be happy now? They pinged around his brain for a second each idea more dizzying than then last till she simply said with an impassive expression on her face:

‘Well, goodnight.’ And went upstairs.

Gold didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what to say or what to and so stood in the foyer, mouth open for a second. Then, his feet carried him forward, and for the second time in four days, he found himself hammering on a woman’s door.

Belle whipped open the old oak to the apartmented West Wing with a blaze in her eyes, and her accent stronger than ever.

‘Are you kidding me? These doors are ancient, and I just had them stained and waxed, I don’t need your stupid slamming-‘

‘I need to say something.’ Gold tried to interrupt, and braced his hands on the doorframe.

Belle gritted her jaw. ‘Don’t bother. We can forget it ever happened, don’t worry yourself about that.’

‘What?’

Belle faltered slightly and crossed her arms across her chest. In a way, he was finding it easier that she was angry.

‘We. Can. Forget. It. I’m not holding you to anything and you clearly regret it, so let’s just go back to what we were good at. Being professional. It’s why I invited you to join our staff dinner, as our employer.’

Gold made an incredulous sound. ‘You think we were good at being professional?’

‘You know what I mean.’ The pink spots on Belles cheeks from earlier had flamed into a rose-tint all over.

‘Not really. Why do you think I want to forget it?’ He knew damn well, but for some reason, he had to hear it from her.

Some of the fire of their old arguments had seeped into Belles voice. ‘You are a _bloody moron_. You upped and left without saying a word! Mrs Potts told me you had gone. I’m not a needy person, but if someone literally leaves their own house get away from you after a stupid kiss then even I, the blind idiot, can get the hint.’

‘You aren’t a blind idiot, I can tell you if you’d let me explain.’

Belle shifted on her feet and made a hand gesture for him to continue.

‘I went to Florida to see my son. I spent three days there. I do that sometimes when I need to, I let Mrs Potts know. I know I should have called but I wasn’t sure where we were. It wasn’t a stupid kiss. I’m sorry. Very sorry.

He knew his sentences were getting shorter and shorter, leaving space in between them for Belle to say something, but she said nothing.

Eventually there was silence and he took his hands from the doorframe, and stepped back.

‘I wanted to kiss you. I know that it’s wrong of me, for the reasons I said before, my age, the employer thing, but I did. But it took me by surprise how much I wanted you, so I went to see my son. And I came back, knowing that I should have told you. That’s it. I don’t have any other excuse. I understand if you wat to go back to being professional. I’ve never been much good at the dating thing.’

Belles voice was lower. ‘I thought you were being cruel. Pushing me away.’

‘No. not cruel. Just scared.’

He gave a wry smile, twisted his hands together and echoed her words from before.

‘Well, goodnight’

He hadn’t gotten three steps away before he heard Belles voice.

‘Hey, have you had a hamburger from town yet? I hear grannies does a great one.’

He turned back towards her and tilted his head to the side. ‘Not yet… I don’t often go into town. But for obvious reasons I probably should.’

‘Well, tomorrow, we’ll go. Ok?’ There again a half smile from her. He nodded and stepped in, just as she did, for her to give him another sweet kiss, on his lips. Chaste but warm and full of heart.

She quickly ran a finger through his hair. ‘Next time, just call, you bloody moron. We will work it out.’

**

Belle lay in bed, drumming her fingers on her stomach. He wanted her. That was his exact phrasing. He wanted her. She had spent the last three days berating herself, berating him angry at him in her head, because she knew that as stupid as he was, she wanted him too.

She wanted him for more than just a kiss after a dance, or a dinner date. Belle wanted to feel his skin next to hers, to feel his breath on her neck, his lips on her skin. How had someone so completely dissimilar to her become such an object of her wants and desires? She wanted him to take her to bed, to be close to him. And being in the same house would be such a temptation but Belle knew what she wanted now.

And she was going to get it.


	10. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies keep rolling in, in what becomes a decisive day.

‘To me. Give it to me. Push it.’ He grunted with exertion. ‘Come on, Belle, harder.’

‘I can’t, it’s too much!’ Belle was panting hard, straining and heaving, muscles aching.

‘Almost there!’ He responded, hands pulling hard, sweat forming on his furrowed brow.

Belle stopped dead, threw her hands up and cried out ‘God, Jefferson, it’s just a stupid trunk, can’t we leave it here it is? It’s too heavy!’

Jefferson plonked himself on the floor in the hallway. ‘You’re the one that wanted the drawing room “cleared of crap”, in your own words. Next time, I’ll get David to help.’

A quick rap on the door distracted Jefferson, who got up to pull the heavy oak door open. Stood outside in the wintry drizzle was a redhead, with large watery blue eyes and her arms filled with a variety of bags. Totes, rucksacks and plastic, brimming and looking very heavy.

A gasp of shock more than anything from Belle. ‘Ariel!’

The visitor grinned rather sheepishly at Belle, whose arms were crossed and demeanour had chilled slightly.

‘Belle. Nice house. You missed out the part where I have to hike to the doorway. That drive was looooong. You also failed to mention the eye candy.’ She tipped her head at Jefferson and tried to make him chuckle, but mirroring Belles face, he met the intruder with a rather impassive expression. Ariel continued regardless. ‘But perhaps, given our phone call, that’s a taboo subject.’ The smile dropped from her lips and she looked mollified.

‘You know I’m here to apologise. Belle, please let me in.’

Belle rolled her eyes. ‘This way,’ and she started towards the library. Ariel started to follow with the bags beginning to drop, stepping fairly slowly.

‘Do you want me to take those ba-‘ Jefferson offered, before Belle cut in with

‘Come on!’

_____

Once they were there and Ariel had rid herself of the bags, dumped in a pile on a red velvet chaise-longe, only recently re-upholstered, Ariel began talking.

‘You know I like to run my mouth off, Belle and a couple of the things I said – they took me by surprise. I was a bit shocked. It’s not like you, and I guess my worry came out in the form of…’

‘Rudeness?’ Belle interjected.

‘When I asked about your mother. I’m sorry. I’m here to make it good, show you my support and, you know, get to grips with this mental house you insist on being part of your life.’

There was a paused where Ariel just grimaced slightly. ‘And you know I meant that about the eye candy. Who’s the hottie with the big old box?’

‘That’s just Jefferson, one of the staff here.’ Belle was beginning to warm in spite of herself. Apparently she just forgave anyone who was rude to her now. Perhaps she should think about Greg again, she thought ironically.

‘Anyway I brought some of your things. From my house. Not because I don’t want them there, you know I’d keep them forever, but you seem insistent there here is good place for you, so you may as well make it a bit more home. I brought some of your favourite books. Journey to the centre of the earth, 80,000 leagues under the sea, couple of those gothic horrors you seemed to devour.’

‘Great. Thanks’ the arms had dropped and Belle sat herself on one of the leather armchairs that were scattered about.

‘And one last thing. I’m verbalising it, in case my grovelling and physical labour wasn’t proof enough. You and your boss. It’s your decision, if you think he likes you, great. You are your own person and I’m sure he is …. Lovely.’ Even Ariel in her desperation to make it seem like she was ok with the burgeoning ‘something’ couldn’t quite get the last word to sound genuine. It was enough though. Belle stood from her chair, walked over and wrapped her arms around her friend, who quickly squeezed back with a few final ‘sorry’s muttered in her ear.

Belle regarded her at arms length, sunny smile itching to get out. ‘Come on. See the house and the work I’ve done. We may even find some eye candy on the way.’

Ariel chucked again ‘yours or mine?’

\--

They had roamed over the whole house, occasionally interrupted by a friendly face, Mrs Potts asking about lunch and dinner, the Nolans having a quiet moment in the pantry and even a swing by from Henry, who had nearly finished the book Belle had loaned him, and took that as permission to raid some of the studies to see if there was anything else interesting to be found. During their tour, Ariel and Belle were back in the swing of talking about anything and everything. The dinner dance and Golds unusual business associates, Ariels’ new work at the marine institute, how Greg had moved on to a series of bimbettes, blonde and adoring. They covered friends, family and everything. Belle told her about everything her and Remus from the animosity, to the friendship to everything else. They had stopped for a break in the east part of the house.

‘So where does it stand now?’ Ariel asked, as she started to stuff her face with peach pie, left on the counter in the east kitchen. ‘He admits it, that you have this, what, connection?’

‘Mmm. But that’s about it. Dinner. Dancing. Kissing. And hamburgers tonight of course.’ Belle licked her fingers as she scraped her plate.

‘You wild child’ Ariel said sarcastically, munching on pie as she spoke. ‘You never were a fast mover. what are your next steps? I’d have jumped him by now. And your bedrooms are so close. You can’t deny it’s convenient. Unless of course you’d like to bang him in the library or have him take you on that massive dining –‘

‘Afternoon, ladies.’ This was becoming an annoying habit of his, Belle decided, appearing out of nowhere at the most inconvenient times. It has caused some rather ridiculous situations now. Belle had started Ariel dropped her jaw, and with it some pie crumbs. ‘I hope I’m not intruding.’ His voice was low, quiet but friendly, today he was dressed in a blue suit, white shirt and brown shoes. He looked strangely lighter, but she couldn’t describe how.

‘Hey. No, this is Ariel a friend who wanted a tour, and we were chased out of the main kitchen by Mrs Potts.’ Ariel nodded, gave a little wave and shook her hair.

‘Pleasure. Miss French, can I borrow you for a moment?’ he smiled but gestured towards the hallway outside. As Belle followed him out, she looked over her shoulder and could have sworn she saw Ariel making an obscene gesture and giving a wink. This, of course set her face practically aflame.

In the hallway, however, Gold checked over both shoulders before sliding both hands around Belles waist, pulling her towards him and kissing her quickly but firmly giving a contented little hum as her lips touched his, before sliding his hands up her back as her arms wrapped around his neck.

‘I just wanted to check, you still wanted to see me tonight’ He whispered, rubbing circles into the small of her back.

‘Well, with an incentive like that, how could I refuse? 6? In the main hall?’ Gold nodded before claiming one last slightly chaste kiss.

When Belle stepped back into the kitchen, Ariel had begun on some leftover meatloaf, and rolled her eyes at Belles slightly flustered demeanour.

’God, you are smitten.’

\--

At about 5, Belle sent Ariel on her way, with promises of seeing her soon and spilling any sordid details she may or may not have at some point in the future. She dressed herself in yellow and white, taking extra care. At 6 she met Gold in the hallway, still dressed in blue and white, who laughed at the sunniness of the dress in January. By 7 they had meandered down to the diner, and were talking over hamburgers, Gold insisting that the only way to eat a fry was to mix ketchup and mustard together to give it bite, Belle shunning both and using BBQ sauce. Gold described the town renovation plan in more detail, Belle told him about her father and her friends. Gold outlined more of his history with Milah and Bae, Belle expounded on her degree and why she loved gothic horror. By 9 they had eaten slices of carrot cake, but showed no signs of slowing in their talking, but were about to be kicked out.

By 10, they had bundled up and walked back to the main estate, a considerable distance, and sat talking still in a cold hallway.

Eventually they walked up the stairs, one of Golds hands on the small of Belles back, guiding her up in the relative darkness.

‘This was…’ Gold didn’t finfish the sentence.

‘I know.’ Belle responded smiling. The pause was beginning to lengthen, so Belle reached forward and grabbed him by the lapels of the blue suit, and leaned up to kiss him. Softly at first, then firmer, her tongue gently sliding across his lips, feeling them open for her, as he pulled her in tighter. This is how she knew he wanted her, by the warmth in the kiss and the feeling of something else against her hip. She wanted nothing more than for him to follow her into her apartment and take off all his clothes, but she knew he easily shied away. She just had to let him know how much she wanted him.

Belle slowly drew her arms from around him to settle her hands on his waist, pulling away from his lips to kiss his neck and jawline.

‘Remus’ She murmured against his skin.

‘Yes’ he breathed back, nuzzling his nose in her hair, hands on her arms. This was warm and right and everything she wanted. She would just say it. What harm could it do?

‘I want you. I want you to come in here, with me.’


	11. Thump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following on and following up. Warnings for terrible smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upgraded to an E, so skip the second half of this chapter.

Remus Golds heart was about to thump out of his chest, and there was nothing he could do about it. Its rabbit-fast beating was all to do with the situation he found himself in, and yet to most people, it would seem fairly normal. The end of a date, sharing kisses and caresses with someone he was close to. He was stood in the doorway of Belles’ apartment with her arms around his neck, and her lips pressed to his ear, and he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing in her lilting accent.

‘I want you. I want you to come in here, with me.’

Breathing a little heavily, he blinked and shook his head slightly before whispering back to her.

‘Surely you don’t mean-‘

Belle pulled back to look directly at him, her eyes wide and a deeper blue than normal. She brought a hand round to caress the strand of Remus’s hair pulling it down past his temple. Her hand drifted to his jaw and she firmly pressed her hand against his cheek.

Belle spoke quietly, but with an energy that fired her words. ‘I do mean it. I know you may not be ready tonight, but just so you know - I am. It seems crazy quick but – well, you know. I want to be close to you. In every way.’

With that, Belle leaned forward, kissed him firmly, and squeezed his forearms once before turning and going.

__

Remus’s heart just wouldn’t stop. It drummed practically all night long, his stomach swooping every time his mind went to Belle. He felt like his body was betraying him, reacting so violently to a few words spoken from soft lips.

Eventually he decided to abandon sleep, and get his cane and go for a walk in the peachy-gold dawn light, blow the cobwebs away and hopefully calm himself down enough to stop feeling like he was having a heart attack and to get himself together. The grounds were massive and Jefferson had done a good job of clearing the paths between grottos and clearings, and he found he had been walking for nearly an hour before he had a stern word with himself.

 _It’s only love, you idiot_ , he thought as he paced rather quickly around a boxed hedge, towards one of the garden gazebos in early dawn. _Why can’t you control yourself?_

The rogue thought halted him mid pace, and cause him to stop and rest his arm on a statue of Mars, pale and mossy.

_It’s love. You idiot._

\--

Remus opened the back gate and entered through the south corridor, scraping wintry shoes on the mat, before stalking the corridors with a tap tap tap.

‘Mr Gold!’ Mary Margaret called out coming up behind him. ‘Have you seen Belle? I’ve been looking for her, as I wanted to start on some of the reupholstering, you haven’t managed to see her have you?’

Remus cleared his throat, shook his head. ‘Not this morning, but when you do see her, could you let me know? This house is so massive, we may keep missing each other all day.’

‘Oh, I doubt you two can will stay away from each other _all_ day’ Mary Margaret laughed before registering what she had said, widening her eyes, and choking slightly. ‘I mean – you have – business to attend to. David? Is that you? I should just – ‘Mary Margaret trotted off with some urgency to follow an imaginary David leaving Remus in the corridor alone.

_And apparently it’s obvious to everyone._

\----

They finally connected at around eleven in the study, Belle was taking inventory of some of the cabinets, containing china and plateware. She was examining a delicate blue and white china set, when Remus come in dog-tired but eager.

He started speaking as soon as he saw her long chestnut hair bent over the case, with her back to him.

‘Oh good, I’ve caught you’

Belle started too, dropping the cup in her hand and watching it fall to the floor.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ she scrabble to pick it up an examined it sorrowfully. ‘It’s chipped.’

Remus looked confused, and took it from her hand. ‘Tis no matter. It’s just a cup. I just wanted to – I mean. Are you free? Tonight?’

Belle chuckled slightly ‘I live here and have very few friends, so uh, yes.’

\---

They waited until everyone had gone home for the day, leaving most of the house lights off before Remus found Belle in the library, reading in a chair, curled up looking so natural, like she belonged there. He perched next to her, looking over her shoulder at the small text in the red leather-bound book.

‘What is it?’ he queried, taking off his jacket.

‘Mmmmllenfoss’ Belle mumbled, not taking her eyes from the page.

‘What?’ Remus looked puzzled and tried to bend forward to read the words.

‘Millenfloss’ Belle said, slightly clearer this time, but not moving her head in any way.

‘I feel like I’m very secondary here.’

Belle finally looked up, reached out to grab a ribbon and stuck it as a bookmark in the pages and smiled. ‘Mill on the Floss. George Eliot, sorry I was mid page – and it’s getting good. Of course, I don’t believe you to be secondary in any way.’ At this she smiled and tapped his hand. ‘Has everyone gone home?’

‘Yes, I finally chased Mrs Potts out. You’d think the woman didn’t have a home.’

‘Good. I’ve been wanting to get you to myself all day.’ Belle tugged at his sleeve so he slid to join her in the oversized chair.

_

The evening was passing too quickly, Remus decided. All of it was too quick. He had only just sat down with her and the clock was striking ten. Ten! They hadn’t even eaten, or in fact, moved much from the chair. Reus had lit a fire after six, which was burning down now, embers softly glowing, signalling the night was drawing in.

He had never laughed so much in his life. Laughed and felt so cared for. Even in the way she spoke to him about his life, the way she listened to what he had to say, the way she chuckled at his poor jokes. They had held hands, occasionally landing butterfly kisses on noses and necks, but as the voices dropped to whispers, Remus only found himself itching to get closer to Belle, but in his sleep deprived state, yawned.

‘You know, you can go to bed if you want. I don’t want to keep you up.’

_Just say it. Do the brave thing, you idiot._

‘I can.’ A deep breath before the next bit. ‘You can come with me if you like.’ He cringed inwardly. That had sounded so much smoother in his head, and was much less committal than _I think I’m in love with you, let me show you how much._

Belles lips twitched and one eyebrow arched.

‘You know, I really _would_ like.’

\--

They hadn’t spoke on the way up. Instead they had moved slowly, leaning heavily on each other, until they reached a darkwood door, heavy timbered and old. Stepping inside, Belle finally saw where he slept, not so many metres from her, but a million miles from how she lived.

It was pink. A soft pink, a calm pink, but plenty of it. Pinkish walls and pinkish bedclothes, darkwood furniture and not much else. Whereas the rest of the house was filled with knickknacks and junk, this only had a picture of a small boy, maybe five or six on the dresser, with dark curly hair. A book was by his bedside. It was calm here. Belles room was filling slowly with lively colours and bits and bobs sent from afar, collected from the village, throws and cushions and pictures and postcards. This was the opposite. Focused, determined, but oldfashioned. Historical too, almost stuck in the past. Belle believed that you could tell a lot about a person from the way they decorated and this space spoke volumes.

Remus was hovering behind Belle, almost anxiously. His heart had picked up that incessant pace and was thumping again, and it was ringing in his ears.

Belle turned just as he opened his lips.

‘I-‘ he didn’t even get a syllable out, before her lips sought his, tenderly tonight. Soft at first, they soon moved from his mouth, leaving wet kisses on his jaw and neck as he held her close, wrapped round her waist. He was so aware of her form. She was tiny and soft. How had he not noticed before? It must have been presence of figure but here he felt every part of her pressed to him, warm and supple. Her hands began roaming his arms and back, her lips returning to his to find him eager to slide his tongue past her lips, stroking hers. His hands soon found his way to wrap themselves in her hair hauling her closer, firmer, with more need building within them both.

Not another word was said, as Remus’s fingers slid to the neckline of her blouse, questioningly pulling at her collar. Belle responded in kind by running her hands up his chest, to unpick the top button of his shirt. Piece by piece, clothes started to fall away, before Remus found Belle tugging at his hand to lead them to the bed, where she sat and pulled him towards her, with him stood between her knees.

Thump-thump-thump

It really was insistent now, the heartbeat, making his head spin, as Belle pressed her lips to his stomach, shedding the shirt from his shoulders and unbuckling his trousers, pulling slightly so they fell to the floor with an odd clunk.

Oh God, his leg. He was wearing the brace today, but she would see the scarring. It wasn’t like he was Mr Universe anyway and-

All thoughts flew out of his head, as Belle reached up and pulled him down with her, tumbling to the bed, her body smooth and soft and so beautiful. He caressed her hips and waist before leaning to nuzzle at her chest. There was nothing between them now. Remus couldn’t believe the brilliancy of her eyes, against the milk-pale skin and the fact that his calloused hands were touching her. Her shoulders, her breasts, her hips. He was so ready for her it was painful, and she could feel him pressed and swelling against her.

Belle grasped Remus’s hand and guided towards the apex of her thighs, spreading the wetness there, breathing heavily and tingling as the warmth between them built. As he stroked her gently, he could feel how aroused she was, so it was no surprise that Belle paned and sighed as he moved himself towards her entrance, stopping just as it pressed against her.

There, lying above her, supported on his arms, they looked at each other, foreheads touching, before Belle kissed him firmly and nodded.

She arched as they were finally joined, and they gasped together, before building into a rhythm, slow, languorous at first, before building to be quick and needy. Belles hands ended up on his back, pulling him closer, as close as she could. She wanted to be with him.

It wasn’t long before they both saw stars.

Lying skin to skin with Belle, the erratic thump-thump-thump had gone. Now there was only the hum of peace and contentment. This was what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and prompts are always appreciated - will eventually be upgraded to an E.


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